


All About that Space

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Message From the Veins (Rare Pair Week) [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, NASA Engineers AU, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Secret Admirer, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9820193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: After an accident that cost him his arm and his position on the first manned Mars mission, Shiro transfers to work at the Jet Propulsion Lab.  Shortly after, Hunk gains a secret admirer.These facts are probably coincidental.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Xagrok.
> 
> AKA how many quiet references to The Martian can Boss fit in one fic?

It wasn’t exactly that Hunk was oblivious.  The opposite, in fact.  

Hunk was detail-oriented and focused, and there he noticed everything.  But he also tended to hone in too much on what he was working on.  Office gossip was interesting, and he enjoyed hearing it, but he didn’t tend to be the first person to notice it when it happened.

So when Hunk walked into the cafeteria and found Pidge talking to someone new, nudging him like they were old friends, he was a bit surprised.  Especially since Hunk didn’t recognize him as one of their fellow technicians.  A new face was usually the topic of a lot of talk, but he’d totally missed it.

Turning to Lance, Hunk frowned.  “Who’s that?”

Following his gaze, Lance paused, then shot Hunk a wild look.  “Seriously?  You don’t- dude.  Dude.  That’s Takashi Shirogane.  You know.   _The pilot.”_

The emphasis made Hunk pause, because they knew a lot of pilots.  They were NASA technicians, making things that flew was part of the job.  Hell, they regularly hung out with Keith, who was their usual pick for test pilot.  Lance still sulked over that, occasionally, but Hunk had told him many times that Lance was too brilliant with aerodynamic designs to risk him in a cockpit.

Then it hit.

Shirogane.   _The_ pilot.  Specifically, the one for the first manned Mars mission.

The one they’d blown up.

Or, at least, that’s what the main office kept saying.  Hunk had gone over every bit of calculation, every scrap of testing data they had, every single part of their rig.  Not one part of it should have failed.  He wasn’t sure if something had been damaged in shipping, or if Houston had put it all together badly, but it _wasn’t their fault._

Still, Hunk shouldn’t be getting mad.  Not when the person who had suffered most was sitting there chatting with Pidge - who, now that he thought about it, probably knew Shirogane.  Her father and brother were the rest of the crew for that mission.  Now that he was looking, Hunk spotted how one of Shirogane’s hands moved strangely, not as fluid as the other, and how the skin of that hand had a plastic sheen to it.  When Shirogane tilted his head, Hunk could see the scar dug deep across his nose.

He could also see a square jaw and a dazzling smile, but that wasn’t a surprise.  Hunk was at least 95 percent sure they picked pilots based on looks, at least a little.  They were the poster boys, the ones who got all the media attention.  NASA wanted to look good, and the best way to do that was to have beautiful pilots with bright smiles and sharp eyes.

“Oh,” Hunk finally answered, gripping his tray.  “Um, should we go?”

Lance gave him another wild look, and apparently Hunk was on a roll today for surprising him.  “Are you serious right now?  No way!  He’s _brilliant,_ and we always sit with Pidge so we have the best possible opening.  We’re talking to him.  I’ve been _dying_ to meet him since they picked him as the Ares mission pilot.”

Yeah, but that was before NASA had probably told him that Hunk’s team was responsible for the loss of his arm.

But Lance was so puppy-dog excited that Hunk only sighed and nodded.  He could play nice.  For some reason, Shirogane was here.  It probably wasn’t to go on a rampage and blame everyone who worked here for his injuries.

So Hunk let himself be dragged to their table.  Lance beamed as he sat down.  “Hey, Pidge, seems like you made a friend.”

“Pidge?” Shirogane asked, brows up.  He smiled at them in greeting, and it didn’t look like he hated them and thought they were bad equipment making monsters.  But who knew with someone NASA’s PR department had sunk their claws into.

Pidge flapped a hand.  “Nickname.  Involved a case of mistaken identity, a stolen badge at a certain commander’s office.  Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m now _very_ worried,” Shirogane replied, but he was out and out grinning.  He took Lance’s offered hand - his friend had thankfully been smart enough to offer his left, which Hunk was so glad for - then offered the same to Hunk.  “Hi, nice to meet you.  You’re part of Ka- _Pidge’s_ team?”

Pidge rolled her eyes, but didn’t correct him.  “Shiro, these are Hunk and Lance.  Lance, Hunk, this is Takashi, but call him Shiro.”

Once Hunk had given his hand a shake, Shirogane nodded to them.  “All my friends do.  Shirogane is a bit of a mouthful.”

Lance’s smile could have been visible from Mars.  “Sure, Shiro.  What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

Fingers digging under his collar, Shiro’s fingers hooked on the cord of a lanyard, and he held it out for them to see.

It was an employee badge.  For their division.

“Apparently I’m too good of an asset to let go just because of the arm,” Shrio replied, so smoothly that Hunk nearly missed the actual content of what he’d said.  “So they asked what I wanted to keep doing, and then sent me here.  Piloting is out, but I’m no slouch at crunching numbers, so here I am.”

Swallowing hard, Hunk’s eyes went wide.  “You lose your arm on malfunctioning equipment and they send you to work at the place that made it?”  He burst out.

Shiro froze.  So did the other two.

“Dude,” Lance muttered.  “I can’t believe I’m saying this.  Me!  To you!  But, maybe tact?”

But Shiro shook his head.  “No, it’s fine.  It’s not like I can pretend, right?  I looked over your documents.  They were perfect.  I mean it, I know what people have said, but it definitely wasn’t anything on your guys’ end.  I looked it over a lot.”  His expression twisted, eyes suddenly dark.  “Wasn’t much better to do in the hospital.”

“I refuse to believe Matt wasn’t constantly bringing you better things to do,” Pidge replied flatly.

Shiro snorted.  “Matt’s idea of entertainment and mine don’t always match.  He tried, at least.  I appreciate it.”  Then he nodded to Hunk.  “I’m not here to give you guys shit, I promise.”

“No, I mean-” Hunk paused, his fingers tapping nervously on the table.  “Okay, that’s actually good to know.  But it seems cruel to send you here after, that’s all.  Considering.”

Slowly, Shiro gave a tiny nod, and something seemed to change in his gaze.  Now he looked more appraising than he had before, and his eyes darted over Hunk’s face before settling on the table.  “It doesn’t bother me. I asked to do something like this.”  He glanced back up, and this time his gaze was softer, downright warm.  It occurred to Hunk that his earlier easiness had been performative.  “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Hunk replied.

Lance grinned at him, drawing Shiro’s gaze away from Hunk.  “Yeah, seriously.  If we can help, just let us know.”

Glancing over at Pidge, Shiro nudged her shoulder gently.  “I think it should be an easy transition.  But I appreciate it.  I have friends to help.”

“Friends nothing.  Family.”  Pidge nudged him back.  “You’ve eaten my parents’ attempts at homecooked meals.  We’re bonded through suffering.”

Shiro laughed, open and easy.  “That’s how that works?  Good to know.  They’re both better cooks than me, anyway.”

From there, it was an easy transition into kitchen disaster stories.  Hunk was always ready with those: no matter how good you were, something could always go wrong.  Especially when you shared a rented house with Lance, who caused chaos by sneezing in the right direction.

By the end of lunch, it almost felt like Shiro had been there for weeks already.

It was a nice feeling.

***

Despite Hunk’s remaining few reservations, Shiro slipped easily into his world.  More than once, he’d seen Keith sneak into the lab on break just to spend time with Shiro, which had originally made Hunk feel like he’d walked into an alternate universe.  It had taken weeks of dedicated effort to make him have a conversation longer than five minutes.  Yet there he was, practically sitting on Shiro’s desk.

Then he’d found out that Shiro had been Keith’s mentor and it added up.

Hunk found himself having the strange feeling that he and Shiro had just _barely_ missed each other for years, now.  A family friend of the Holts, a technical coworker (if in another city), the mentor of Keith and the hero of Lance.  It was less ‘six degrees away’ and more ‘six kinds of one degree’.

It made Hunk comfortable.  Which was nice, since Shiro ended up floating around the teams for a while, until Director Altea finally assigned him to work with Hunk and the rest.

“You’ve needed an extra head for a while,” Allura told them.  “But we didn’t want to disrupt your workflow when it wasn’t slowing you down.”

Shiro smiled back, nose crinkling.  It made the scar on his nose ripple.  “I’ll try not to be a burden.”

“Join me in the grunt work,” Lance called cheerfully.  “We’ll just drink coffee and stay out of the genius’ way.”

Allura had left, chuckling, when Hunk was still trying to assure Lance that he was just as smart, all while Pidge was still basking and demanding coffee refills.

A few hours later, Shiro stepped over and cleared his throat.  “Do you have a minute?”

Honestly, Shiro could have as many as he wanted, if it kept Hunk from throwing his laptop through a window.  He hated the modeling programs, some days.  “Sure, what do you need?”

Pulling over a chair, Shiro spread out one of Hunk’s designs on the table.  “I have a couple of questions, actually.”

“Did you find something wrong?” Hunk asked, brow furrowed.  Now that he was more used to Shiro, the idea didn’t bother him so much.  Mind, it would be odd, because Hunk was pretty meticulous with checking his work, but everyone made mistakes.

Shiro froze, then shook his head. “Oh, no, nothing like that.  Not at all.  No, this is _brilliant._  Elegant.  I wanted to pick your brain about how you got here.  Just playing catch-up, that’s all.”

Oh.  Chest warm, Hunk faced Shiro more properly and nodded, leaving the models alone for now.  “Sure.  Want me to go through the process?”

“Please.”

Shiro was an attentive listener, eyes always either on Hunk’s hands or his face.  That last bit was actually odd, in this office.  The Jet Propulsion Lab was full of introverted engineers, with Lance being the most glaring exception.  He wasn’t used to having someone make such direct eye contact anymore.

Maybe Lance had a point that Hunk needed to get out more.

Eventually, Shiro’s brows drew together, and the fingers of his left hand drummed against the table.  “It’s going that far forward in the center console?”

“Gives the hardware in the back more space,” Hunk replied.  “Why?”

Shiro tilted his head, glancing at Hunk like he was almost _shy._  Because he was the new guy, and he probably wasn’t too sure of himself here, yet.

It was weird to remember.

“It won’t be a problem-problem,” Shiro finally replied.  “But I’m willing to bet that Keith will be scowling when he comes out from testing this.  It’s gunna be just barely within elbows reach for him, so he’ll keep bumping it the whole time.  It won’t prevent him from flying, and if you need the space, it’s no huge deal.  But you’ll have a happier pilot if you can give him an extra inch.”

Hunk hadn’t even been thinking that way.  Comfort of the pilot was important-but-not-really, in that they knew they had to keep it within certain parameters or else Houston sent them a slew of complaints.  More than usual.  This was within that range, and Hunk hadn’t given it a second thought.

But thinking of it as Keith testing it - or Shiro, too, since there was little doubt why he’d noticed - made Hunk’s brain look at it from a new angle.

The power of a people person, apparently.

Still, it was a good point.  “I think we can spare that space,” Hunk replied.  “Let me just pull it up-”

Shiro waved him off, shaking his head.  “No, I can do it.  I was working on this today anyway, it’s not a big deal.  If you don’t mind me messing with your design.”

“We’re on the same team.  Mess away.”

Shiro beamed back.  “Thank you for your help.”

Offering a wry grin, Hunk nodded.  “Thank you for the break.  It’s nice to look over something I know is working instead of this.”  He gestured to his computer.

“I know what you mean,” Shiro said fondly, then nodded his goodbye and headed back to his workstation.  Pidge leaned over, expression sly as she muttered, and Shiro playfully pretended to throw his pen at her.

Hunk spent another moment studying Shiro’s profile as he settled back down at this station.  Then he got back to work.

***

There was a pile Hersey’s kisses sitting on his desk.

A big pile.  Right there.  No note, no explanation.

Not that Hunk was going to turn down chocolate, but why?

Wait, okay, Hunk got it.  

He turned on his heel, to face Shiro, who was already at his desk.  He was the earliest riser of the group, claiming it was because if he got out earlier, the traffic wasn’t as bad.  They were in LA.  The traffic was always a nightmare.

“Shiro?  Do you know where Lance got to?”

Pausing, Shiro glanced over, his teeth still wrapped around a pen.  Realizing what he was doing, he yanked it away and set it down hard, then offered Hunk a shrug.  “I hadn’t noticed him come in yet.  He’s usually not here for about twenty more minutes.”

True.  And Hunk had left before him.  Mind, he’d stopped for coffee on the way, but Lance usually did too.  Putting that aside, it was pretty unusual for Lance to do something like this and not be around to watch the reaction and receive his thanks.

“Oh.  Did you see anyone else come through?”

Shiro shook his head.  “No, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention until you came in.”

Automatically, Hunk’s gaze drifted to Shiro’s screens.  Each one had multiple windows up, showing satellite footage of the surface of Mars.  As he watched, they started to move and shift, zooming in or refocusing.

Today must have been a check in on the future Mars landing site.  And Shiro was watching from the JPL instead.

Hunk’s heart clenched.  “You want a kiss?”

Shiro jolted and shot him a wild look.  “I’m sorry?”  Right. Hunk held up one of the candies for Shiro to see.  That made him crack a smile, and he held out his left hand to take it.  “Thank you.”

“No problem. I have no idea why these are here.  This has to be half a bag.”

Unwrapping the candy - and Hunk had to admit how impressed he was with the prosthetic’s dexterity - Shiro shrugged.  “Maybe you have a secret admirer.”

Hunk winced.  “I hope not.  Office romances are a pain.  So much drama.”

For a moment, Shiro eyed him.  Then he nodded.  “Makes sense.  Then, hey, maybe just enjoy it while it lasts?  Free chocolate.”

“True,” Hunk replied, smiling.  “Can’t say no to that”  He paused, then glanced at Shiro. “Um, hey.  You okay?”

“Hmm?” Shiro followed his gaze back to the screen.  “Oh.  Yes, I’m fine.”  When Hunk only continued to stare, his shoulders slumped.  “Well, it’s a little bittersweet.  But I’m glad the mission is continuing on schedule.  It’s important.  And Matt and Sam deserve it.”

“So do you,” Hunk replied softly.

Shiro just smiled back, and this time it was very tired.  “Sometimes that doesn’t matter.  But I ended up here, and I like it.  I get to see Keith a lot, and I like this team, and Director Altea.  So it works out.”

Hunk reached over and took another kiss, offering it to Shiro.  He took it with another of those sad smiles.  

“Your admirer might not like that you’re giving these away.”

Snorting, Hunk rolled his eyes.  “If any theoretical admirer really knows me, they’d know I like to share.  So if they don’t like it, tough cookies.”

Shiro’s gaze warmed, losing that awful edge.  “Hopefully they can appreciate that.”

Hunk just smiled and started to pull up his own work, and they fell into easy silence.

***

After that, the presents started to show up like clockwork.  

Oftentimes it was candy, which Hunk assumed was because it was easy to get.  Lollipops in the shape of a heart, different kinds of chocolates, and jelly beans were regulars.  There were also flowers, a different kind each time and always fake (which Hunk appreciated: he liked gardening but not keeping after bouquets).  Every once in a while, it would be a card, always with a goofy message.

Hunk had taken to keeping those in his desk.  Lance especially liked to pull them out and read them when he was frustrated, and his silly voices always made Hunk laugh.

This morning, though, it was different.

This time, there was a box and a typed note.

 _‘Sorry, store bought will have to do.  I tried to make them, but it was a disaster.  Proof attached.’_  Indeed, there was a printed picture on top of the box, showing a plate of what had once been some kind of confectionary.  Except they looked like they’d been blowtorched.  Next to the plate was a piece of paper with a drawing of a frowny face.   _‘Thank you for being a good sport.  I hope you’ve liked these.’_

The phrasing made Hunk frown, even as he opened the box.  The cookies were indeed store bought, the perfectly circular chocolate chip ones that the local grocery store made.  Which was fine.  Hunk liked those.

But he found himself disappointed that he didn’t get the awful burnt ones.  No, they wouldn’t have been as tasty, but that was _sweet._  He liked that his admirer had tried.

“Something wrong?” Pidge asked, voice teasing.  “What did your secret admirer bring today?”

Honestly, Hunk _knew_ that Pidge and Lance were protecting his gifter.  They had to have seen it, and their teasing questions only got more blatant by the day.  But no matter how many times Hunk asked, they refused to budge.  Even when he withheld sweets from Lance.  It was unprecedented.

“Cookies,” Hunk said, and he offered the box so she could take one.  Pidge took it with a delighted noise, immediately biting in.  “And nothing’s wrong.  I think they’re giving up, though.”

That made Lance glance up.  “What makes you say that?”

“There was a note.  The wording was strange.  It was all past tense.”  Hunk offered the box to Shiro.  “Want one?”

He stared at Hunk for a moment, brow furrowed.  “Oh, no, not today.  I’m really not in the mood for cookies right now.”  

That made Lance gasp dramatically.  “How can you not be?  Screw that.  Hunk, I’ll take Shiro’s cookie, he doesn’t deserve them.”  When Hunk offered him the box, Lance took both, biting into one with a dramatic moan.

Shiro only rolled his eyes.  “I ate something yesterday that didn’t agree with me.  So, please, you should have it.”  He eyed the crumbs already on Lance’s desk, and got a beaming smile in return.

“Next time your admirer should bring peanut butter,” Pidge declared pointedly.

“I’m sure they’ll keep it in mind,” Hunk replied.  “If they do again.”

Lance shrugged.  “Maybe.  I don’t think they’ll give up that easily.”

Humming, Hunk sat back down at his desk.  “We’ll see.  It can’t be fun to keep up without any response.  Maybe they got bored.”

There was no response to that, so Hunk got to work.

***

But the presents didn’t stop.

The next day wasn’t peanut butter cookies.  It was another fake flower, this time a chrysanthemum.  But he got peanut butter cookies on Friday instead.

Hunk stared down at them, a little weirded out by that, but then he unfolded the attached note.

_‘A little pidgeon told me these would be appreciated.’_

Of course.

“Pidge, if you’re not going to tell me who it is, can you at least stop exploiting them for cookies?”

Snorting, Pidge rolled her eyes.  “Exploit nothing.  I’m giving them ideas.  That’s helping.”

Hunk frowned at her.  “Pidge!  They shouldn’t be doing this anyway.  It’s getting expensive.”

“We get paid pretty well,” Shiro replied, bone dry.  “I doubt a few boxes of cookies are too much trouble financially.  And you get an entire bouquet of fake flowers for about ten bucks at the craft store.”

Scowling, Hunk sighed.  “Still.  I’m starting to feel bad.  All this for nothing.”

Shiro met his eyes, considering.  “I can understand that,” he finally replied.

Awkward silence reigned, until Lance burst into their area, drinking from his favorite mug.  “Good morning, campers!  Ooh, cookies again?  Awesome.”  He took one for himself then sat down at his desk.  “You guys ready for the meeting today?”

“Oh!  Oh _no.”_  Hunk dove for his desktop.  “Right.  Okay, yes, give me a moment.”

Shiro chuckled fondly, and Hunk found his cheeks heating at the noise.  He wasn’t even embarrassed about his reaction. Hunk’s hatred for presenting at meetings was infamous, so he was long since used to the teasing.  But Shiro’s laugh was a warm sound, and it made Hunk’s stomach flip.  

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who hated presenting as much as you do,” Shiro said.

“It’s awful,” Hunk muttered back.  “I already did the work, I don’t know why I have to deal with this part too.”

Considering him, Shiro tilted his head.  “Well, for the credit.”

Hunk rolled his eyes.  “My name’s on it.  It’s my work.  I don’t need to stand in front of a room to know that.”

For a moment, Shiro watched him continue to grab for his notes.  “I could do it.  Public speaking doesn’t bother me.”

Right.  Astronaut and pilot.  It wouldn’t, would it?  “You don’t have to do that,” Hunk told him, eyes wide.  “You shouldn’t have to.”

“I don’t have to.  I want to.  And I know your notes backwards and forward anyway, so I don’t think I’ll mess it up that badly.”

Hunk chewed his bottom lip.  “You really don’t mind?”

Shiro smiled back. “Not at all.”

It was a huge relief to shove his papers to Shiro, and Hunk found himself beaming after him all the way to the conference room.

Shiro was still a rarity at the JPL.  Most engineers were like Hunk, naturally quiet, or like Pidge, who hated to slow down and explain herself.  Even Lance wasn’t like Shiro, despite being his own unique case.  He spent a lot of time trying to be funny and likable, and it would have been great for a conference, but at a normal meeting no one wanted to spare the time.

Shiro acted like everyone in the room was already a friend, and when he spoke it was like talking one on one, rather than to a group.  He was direct and easy, voice unshaken, and sounded totally confident, despite the way he kept his right hand tucked into his pocket the whole time.

This was Shiro in his element.  One of them.

Hunk could really understand why he was the sort of person who was on posters, when he saw him in this light.  Shiro looked more like the movie version of himself rather than the real deal.

But it was later, when he looked at Hunk through his bangs and double checked that he hadn’t misrepresented anything, that he’d covered all of Hunk’s work and made sure he was credited properly, that Hunk’s heart started to pound.

This time, he understood.

Oh no.

***

A crush.

Hunk had a crush on a coworker.  On Takashi Shirogane, of all people.

“Hunk, buddy, I gotta tell you.  This is a trainwreck.”  Lance waved his fork at him as he spoke, flecking pasta sauce back onto his face.  He didn’t notice.  “You don’t even know.”

Scrubbing a hand down his face, Hunk frowned.  “Yes, I do.  I like Shiro, who’s barely adjusted to being here and his arm, and I have to deal with the secret admirer on top of that.  I can’t keep taking gifts from them when I like someone else.”

Lance let out a slow breath.  “Trainwreck.  Absolute trainwreck.  And Hunk, you can take any gifts offered to you.  I don’t think your admirer is doing this with any expectations about you.”

“Of course they are.  That’s the point.”  Hunk scowled, poking at this own pasta.  Guilt made his stomach squirm.

“Or to make you happy,” Lance pointed out.  “They’ve never made any attempts to reveal themselves.  I think they just like spoiling you a little.”

Hunk sighed.  “I don’t feel spoiled.  I feel selfish.”

“So call it off,” Lance replied. “You want me to tell them?”

Wincing at the reminded that Lance still wouldn’t just tell him, Hunk nodded.  “Yeah.  That’d be best.”

Lance shook his head.  “Whatever.  Fine, sure.  Train. _Wreck.”_

Hunk couldn’t even disagree.

***

There was still a gift at his desk the next day.

_‘Sorry.  Lance told me, but I had already made these and didn’t want them to go to waste.  I’ll stop after this.  I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.’_

For once, the note wasn’t typed.  Instead, it was in purple ink, scrawled out in choppy handwriting.  Likely, they’d had to hastily write it this morning.

It was cookies again, this time sugar cookies.

Judging by the slightly crispy edges and flat look, Hunk was pretty sure they were handmade.

Something in his chest tightened, and Hunk closed his eyes tight against tears.

The admirer had made these for him, had probably come in excited and eager, and instead been told Hunk didn’t want them.

It was near cruel.  But Hunk still thought leading the admirer on was worse, at least when there was someone else he wanted.

Sitting down heavily at his desk, Hunk held the little tupperware box to his chest and mentally apologized to his poor, sweet admirer.

“Cookies again?” Pidge asked, and her voice was soft and careful.

Hunk nodded.  “Yeah.  Sorry, I don’t think I’m sharing them, today.”

That didn’t look like it surprised Pidge, and she nodded and pulled back.  After a moment, her eyes darted to Shiro.

His head was down, his entire focus on the papers in front of him.  He was gnawing on his pen again, damn near chewing the thing apart, hair mussed and pushed back.

Shiro was gorgeous, even when he was ruffled.  And no doubt unavailable, or straight, or not interested, or a hundred other reasons why Hunk could never say anything.

Lance was right.  This was a trainwreck.  When Hunk looked over at him, Lance’s expression was twisted with something dangerously close to pity.

Grinding his teeth, Hunk turned back to his work.

***

Around lunch, Shiro left.  It was a quiet but abrupt thing, and if Hunk hadn’t been hyper aware of Shiro today, he probably would have missed it.

Or maybe not, because when Shiro stood, his shoulders were set low, and he kept running his hands through his hair as he walked out.

Following him, Hunk frowned.  Had he been so involved with his stupid love drama that he’d missed something with Shiro?  “Is something going on?”

Pidge looked up, then shook her head.  “No.  Keith’s here for testing, so Shiro probably went to meet up with him for lunch.”

Oh.  Hunk nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting to Shiro’s desk.  In his haste, he’d left a drawer open, and something peeked out.

The stem of a flower.

The stem of a fake flower.

Something in Hunk’s chest went cold.  He stood on shaky feet, stepping over to take hold of the stem.  It came out easily.

The same kind of rose that his admirer had given him last week.

“Hunk?” Lance asked.  “What are you- oh.  Oh boy.”

The pen Shiro was always chewing on - chewing only, never for reports, sometimes for notes - was still laying out on the desk.  The tip was stained with purple ink.

Hunk’s heart pounded.  It didn’t have to mean- maybe it could be-

Taking hold of the drawer, he yanked it open.

There were more of the fake flowers in there, a handful for each kind that Hunk had been given in the past couple of weeks.  And there were several bags of candy, each of the familiar and half full.

‘Oh boy’ was right.

Hunk stepped back from the desk, his mind whirling, pieces of the puzzle slotting together in one sudden click.

Shiro was always the first in.  He never saw the admirer.

Shiro had been the one to suggest it was a secret admirer.

_“I hope not.  Office romances are a pain.  So much drama.”_

_“Makes sense.  Then, hey, maybe just enjoy it while it lasts?  Free chocolate.”_

Oh no.

“I’m such a trainwreck,” Hunk muttered.

Pidge snorted. “At least you’re a self aware one, now.”

He shot her a bland look, but she just shrugged back.

Wait, why was he talking to Pidge?  Hunk needed to talk to _Shiro._

“I’ll be back soon,” he called, then bolted out.

As he left, he heard Lance sigh.  “Well, there goes the most entertainment I’ve had at work in weeks.”

***

Luckily, knowledge of Keith carried Hunk through.  On a nice day today - or, like most days in LA - Keith usually wanted to eat outside on the green space.  It was more private than the packed cafeteria, and Keith just seemed to prefer the times when he could see the sky rather than fluorescent lighting.

So Hunk jogged out and paused.  He immediately spotted the two figures pressed together on the nearest bench, their backs to him..  Shiro’s white bangs were barely visible and he curled nearly in half to press his forehead to Keith’s shoulder.

“I should have stopped weeks ago,” Shiro muttered, his voice sounding strangled.  “He made some comments but I didn’t think it was that bad, and he kept the cards and everyone liked the cookies so I just kept going.  But he was so upset, Keith.  I can’t believe I missed it for that long.  I didn’t know it was bothering him like that.  No one said.”

Keith sighed and patted Shiro’s head.  His posture was easier than Hunk had expected it, considering that Shiro was clearly pretty emotional right now.  Apparently when it was his mentor, Keith could deal with that.  “You couldn’t have known if no one knew.  And if Lance and Pidge had thought it was a problem, they would have said so.”

“I should have seen it,” Shiro replied, shaking his head.  “Even if no one else did.  I was paying such close attention to his reactions.  Nothing seemed wrong.  Usually they made him smile at least once.  But you didn’t see him this morning.  I thought he was going to cry.”

At that, Keith shrugged, and the movement made Shiro’s head bob.  “Maybe not, but if he was keeping it to himself there’s no way you could have known.  You were being nice, Shiro.  You weren’t asking anything of him, you weren’t expecting anything in return.  You just did it, for whatever reason.”

Shiro curled up further, and it was amazing how such a big guy could look small, even when next to Keith.  “I liked his smile.  And he laughed at the jokes.”

Leaning his head over until it rested against the top of Shiro’s, Keith sighed again.  “So you didn’t do anything wrong.  You meant well, and when it was made clear he wanted it to end, you stopped.  That’s all you can do, Shiro.  You’re not a mind reader.  The guy who lives with him couldn’t tell he didn’t like it, so I think you’re off the hook.”

Shiro let out a chuckle that sounded like it crashed in his throat.  “I guess,” he replied.  “But I feel like I missed it on purpose.  It’s been so long since I’ve tried like this.  Not since-”  He rolled his right shoulder pointedly.

“Longer,” Keith murmured.  “Not since the Ares mission stuff started.”  They both sat quietly.  “I don’t think you missed anything.  If you did, Lance or Pidge would have set you straight.  You have a team, Shiro.  Maybe not the same as your old one, but a good set anyway.”

Finally picking up his head, Shiro let out a sniffle.  “When’d you get insightful?  This is weird, but I think I like it.”

“My life has not been frozen since you started training,” Keith replied, tone flat.

Shiro snickered, though it was still watery.  “Then why don’t you have any fun stories when I ask how you’ve been, huh?”

“Maybe I don’t want to share them with you.”

“Keith, c’mon, you’re hearing my humiliation.  Share.”

Keith paused.  “Humiliation?”

That made Shiro shrug.  “Not from Hunk.  Telling you.  Admitting what an idiot I’ve been.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Shiro let out a playful whine.  “You mock my pain.”  He paused, but Keith didn’t reply to the reference, so he nudged him instead.”  Alright, c’mon, tell me something fun.  What are you here for today?  The Charon project?”

As Keith started to explain, he tilted his head back and glanced back blandly at Hunk.

Hunk froze, utterly caught.

Rather than pause his explanation, Keith shot him a small smile, then shook his head.

Not right now.  

That was fair.  Shiro probably needed time to cool down, and Hunk wouldn’t appreciate someone confronting him while he was still stuffy and close to crying.

That was fine.  Hunk just needed a plan.

And he was pretty sure he had one.

He needed to hit the grocery store tonight.

***

At the sight of the little box on his desk, Shiro froze.

From his desk, Hunk tried not to stare.  He had no idea how Shiro had managed to keep such a cool head for nearly two months.  His own heart was already pounding just from dropping the box off.

Frowning, Shiro picked it up, then popped off the top.  Immediately, the room was filled with the smell of fresh baked peanut butter cookies.

It was just as well that Pidge wasn’t in yet.

“Seems like you have an admirer too,” Hunk told him cheerfully, resting his jaw on his palm.

Shiro gave a strained smile, turning the box over in his left hand.  “I think it’s more likely someone’s screwing with me.”

That made Lance snicker.  “Not yet.”  

Jumping, Shiro whirled to look at him.  Obviously, he hadn’t noticed Lance at his own desk.  Which was fair, because Lance was never in this early.  Except on days when Hunk had spent the previous night plotting, and Lance wanted to see the results, apparently.

Shiro put the box back down, frowning.  “Was this you?”

“Why does everyone think their admirer is me?” Lance asked.  “First Hunk, now you.  I’m not the guy who fakes romance.  I’m the guy who _makes_ romance.”

Shiro rolled his eyes, shoulders relaxing.  “Sure you are,” he replied, and Lance huffed dramatically.  “But if it’s not you, who?”

Clearing his throat, Hunk dug through his desk and pulled out a bag of chocolate kisses.  He held up one.  “Would you like a kiss?”

Shiro froze, because the half-full bag was one of the ones that used to live in his desk drawer, until Hunk had snooped.

Slowly, his eyes tracked up to meet Hunk’s eyes.

Then his expression shattered.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro let out, curling in on himself like he had with Keith.  “You’re right, you made your point, it is pretty weird, isn’t it?  I shouldn’t have- I know you don’t like office stuff, and it wasn’t any kind of pressure, I just thought it was nice and-  I’m sorry.  If you need me to switch teams, I will.”

Lance let out a low whistle.  “Shiro, buddy, you missed the point so hard it’s actually impressive.”

Biting his bottom lip, Shiro closed his eyes hard.  “Probably.   I’m sorry.”

Hunk shot Lance a quelling look, and he held up his hands and mouthed ‘trainwreck’ again.

Making romance indeed.

“Shiro,” Hunk replied softly.  “Why did Lance tell you I wanted the gifts to stop?”

Shiro’s eyes stayed firmly shut, and he tucked his hand into his pocket.  “He said you were upset and you felt bad taking the gifts.  You’d said before, and I should have stopped them.  I’m sorry.”

Okay, Shiro really needed to stop with the apologizing.  It didn’t suit him at all.  Standing, Hunk walked around his desk.  “That’s not why.  I was uncomfortable taking gifts when there was someone else I liked.”  

Shiro flinched.

“No, Shiro, I didn’t want to take the gifts from the admirer because I already had feelings for _you._ ”

It took a moment for that to sink in, and then Shiro finally looked at him again.  “You stopped getting presents from me because you _like_ me.”

“Well, I didn’t know it was you,” Hunk pointed out.  “If you’d just told me, this wouldn’t have been a problem.”

Shiro continued to stare, eyes wide.  “You said you don’t do office romance.”

Shrugging, Hunk offered a smile.  “I’d never really wanted to.  There was no one I thought was worth it.”

From his corner, Lance huffed.  “Hey!”

“Romantically.  I live with you.”  

Lance nodded.  “Acceptable.”

Glancing between them both, Shiro started to straighten up.  “Oh.  That’s.  Good.  That’s great.  We should... We can maybe talk about this later?”  He glanced pointedly at Lance.  “Maybe over dinner?”

“I’d like that,” Hunk replied, a smile growing over his face.

Shiro beamed back.

“Aww, no, I wanted dramatic making out,” Lance complained, tone cheerful.  “Ah, well.  ‘Grats, you two boneheads.  Really, this has been fun, in a second-hand embarrassment kind of way.  We all good?  Can we go back to work?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Shiro replied, and he reached out with his right hand.  Hunk took it and squeezed it.  “You want a cookie?”

Lance made a greedy noise and leaned over his desk to took one.  “Yes.  Hunk cookies.  He wouldn’t let me have any, it was a nightmare.”

“They were for Shiro,” Hunk replied flatly.

“That’s okay,” Shiro returned, expression warm.  “I hope my admirer knows me well enough to know I’d want to share.”

Hunk smiled back and took a cookie.

He traded it with a kiss.

This time, it was chocolate.  Later that day, it only tasted like chocolate.


End file.
